Running Against the Grains of Time

Tatyana Pozdnyakova and the Ageless Runners

At Boston, the masters athletes who are invited to run the city’s marathon stay at the Copley Plaza Hotel. The open elite field dorms a block away at the John Hancock Building that, for the week of the marathon, is securely off-limits to the public. But while there is a clear division between the masters runners and the open runners, a group of middle-aged women from the former Soviet Union blur the edges of the two groups. Though over the magic age of 40, they run each race to win.

A pool of talent worthy of most major city marathons lounges in a fifth-floor hotel room at the Plaza. The room is overflowing with condiments from the elite athletes’ hospitality room; there is enough food to power an army. Wet running clothes are scattered over the floor like stepping stones in a river, their scent hanging in the air.

The woman holding court, dressed in a pretty white blouse and faded jeans, looks like a country and western singer. She is Tatyana Pozdnyakova, an incredibly fit 47-year-old, and quite possibly the best masters marathoner of all time. Sure, Priscilla Welch has run faster and won New York as a master, but nobody has exhibited the consistency and longevity of Pozdnyakova.

Pozdnyakova is not running the 2003 Boston Marathon for a simple reason: "Recovery," she states, with a flippant wave of her hand. "Last month I won the Los Angeles Marathon." Yes, first place overall. And not because it was a slow year: Pozdnyakova broke the tape in a world-class time of 2:29:00, a mark matched by only a handful of open American athletes.

Pozdnyakova is talking to Firaya Sultanova-Zhdanova, who will, in a couple of days time, place seventh overall and first masters runner at Boston. Here in the hotel room we have three of the eventual top six women at Boston, and two others who have placed in major marathons during the past few months. It is hard not to draw a parallel between today’s dominant Kenyan men and the ruling Russian women.

Where does this vast success derive from? Why do the Russian masters women far outshine the rest of the world?

Seeds of Greatness

Looking back two decades one can see the seeds of today’s dynasty: In 1982 Soviet women had eight of the 10 fastest performers at 1500m. Soviet athletes produced 13 of the top 15 times in the 3,000m as well.

One of the leading women of that day was Pozdnyakova. She has been competing since the 1970s at a world-class level. In the early 1980s, when Coe and Ovett were storming the stadiums, she ranked as high as fourth in the world for 3,000m.

When will she lie down and stop, for heaven’s sake? I took the opportunity in Boston to ask her a few questions. The conversation swung back to her track days:

"Yes, I did okay; I ran 3:56 for the 1500m," she recalled. That was decades ago, a time when she ran in white bun huggers and a red V-neck singlet as part of the national team. "In those days we had all the best runners in the middle distances."

We went farther back, to a young Pozdnyakova, the one who did not have a silver spoon at birth, who faced poverty and a working childhood. If there is a common bond that unites the majority of the Russian masters runners thriving today, it is a childhood of adversity: a life not pillowed by insurance policies and beach holidays, rather a stark reality of a life that was all about survival.

Not mincing her words, Pozdnyakova continues, "My childhood was not at all easy. The day began at 4 a.m. when I had to take care of my younger brothers and feed the animals"—chickens, geese, ducks, pigs, sheep and cows. Pozdnyakova shrugs, "All the children in our village had a hard life. Also for me it was tough because my father was a World War II invalid." Luckily the healthy food from the farm built a strong constitution that was lacking in many runners from other corners of the globe.

At the age of 18, spurred on by an athletic sister and an eager physical education teacher, Pozdnyakova tried the sport that has since made her world renowned. Competition followed shortly, and then championship honors, outstanding times on the track that would still be world class today, and personal records that left her name firmly imprinted on the record books.

Total Focus, Hard Work

I wanted to know how Pozdnyakova had lasted so long and why she thought that Russian women were the dominating force in today’s masters’ scene. "They work very hard and they know how to train properly and also set very high goals," she replied.

I can certainly attest to the work ethic. During 1997, I resided for a short time at the house of the 1992 Olympic Marathon champion Valentina Yegorova in Gainesville, FL. The house was overflowing with Russian women, mainly in the 35-plus age group. Their total focus on achievement was unwavering.

The most striking facets of the Russian’s lifestyle were their superior training programs and their total conviction in these personal plans. Where a group of Western runners will sit around the breakfast table and agree on a compromised session to suit all, here was a house full of talented compatriots running out the door in different directions at the same hour, following their individual schedules to a T.

Expanding Distances and Opportunities

"Why haven’t the world’s elite women broken all of those decades-old records at the same rate as their male counterparts?" I asked Pozdnyakova. "I am not surprised that the results of others have not improved," she replied. "During those years [1972–82] there weren’t long-distance races such as 3, 5, 10K, half marathon, and marathon, that is why all of the attention and training was

on the middle distances such as 800m, 1500m, etc. Now with the 5,000m and 10,000m brought to the Olympic Games and World Championships, everything changed and the specializing has been put to the side a little bit."

Twenty-five years ago you found Grete Waitz followed by 10 Russian/Eastern Bloc athletes in the year-end rankings for the distance events. The only distance event where the Western world had an edge then was the marathon. The simple reason was that it was a non-championship event until 1984, and therefore the National team did not train for it. The support given to athletes by the state, and the prohibitions against accepting invitations from foreign races, made it an easy choice to follow the national curricula.

In addition, unlike the West, where the focus of all support, both financial and federation-oriented, was directed toward younger athletes—those who are projected to be the stars of the next Olympics—the Soviets promoted and supported the athlete of the moment, regardless of their age. In 1984, many of the women in the running for spots on the Russian national Olympic team were already over the age of 30.

Endless Enthusiasm

Zen Buddhists say "Shoot for the stars, because if you miss them you’ll land on top of the mountains." They would like Pozdnyakova.

"My goal in life is to never stop achieving. I will be competing in 2004 with the same enthusiasm and fire as 2003, as also in 1976," she says.

"There is not any success without work and work and again work. Have a goal and try to reach it no matter what," says Pozdnyakova of her philosophy.

There are no special ingredients in Pozdnyakova’s cupboards, or indeed for the other women in Florida. Pozdnyakova states this has always been the case, since as a young child she ate "normal, nothing special. Regular food. Meat, fish, chicken and vegetables—potatoes, tomatoes, cucumbers etc., sometimes fruits in the summer."

Not just Pozdnyakova has survived the years through hard work, rigorous exercise, and a good diet. It is interesting to hear her list the former teammates from the Soviet squad from her younger years—most names are recognizable, and still active today: Firaya Sultanova-Zhdanova, Ramilya Burangulova, Irina Bogacheva, Luybov Kremleva, Fedor Ryjov, Andrey Kuznetsov, and Gennady Temnikov.

Masterful Discrimination

Pozdnyakova now switches to the hot topic from the Russian side of the fence: "I am not pleased to be treated like a master. The races are not interested in paying appearance money for masters runners, so I want to be open runner."

Sultanova-Zhdanova readily agrees: "I came to Boston to try and be a top competitor, to get a place on the Russian World Championship team. They put me in a room with another masters runner and she is watching me thinking I am her competitor for Monday. I want to tell her no, I am master only in age. I want to win the race outright."

Pozdnyakova often places in the open division, yet is always invited in the lower-paid masters bracket. Masters runners are rarely offered appearance money. Could that be an impetus to give her the drive to run these astonishing times?

Hope and Realism

Six months later, at the ING New York City Marathon, we again find Pozdnyakova holding court. The eminent Eastern athletes that surround her may have run faster, may have more medals, but all hold Pozdnyakova in the utmost respect. To the Russians she is a legend.

She is now more interested in the coaching facets of distance running. Synovitis of the tendon along the front of her shin has called for a halt in training. As she reflects on her latest protégé, Lyubov Denisova, she sinks back into the suite armchair and smiles.

"I see Luba in Boston and from her result I can take great pleasure. I see her run in New York with the best Kenyans in the world, and she is at their shoulder. She follows the ‘old’ system, and she competes with the best. Was there something magical about our methods? In a word, no. But, is there today something magical? Looking at Luba, I say yes. We have done great things, and we are the living proof."

With that, Pozdnyakova grabs a large ripe Florida orange, and as she begins to peel away the rind in one continuous curl, her eyes mist over. I could swear I see a tear forming in the corner of her eye. A tear of hope for the Russians who will undoubtedly continue to dazzle us.

As a conclusion, I repeat the message I have heard from many Russian masters runners: The hard truth of running comes in the sacrifice of the athlete to be able to handle workloads and hardships beyond the norm. In literary circles it is widely acknowledged that realism emanated from Russia. I think the concept plowed its seeds of thought into the athletes, too.

Toby Tanser lives and runs in New York City. He lists his greatest "Russian moment" as briefly meeting Mikhail Gorbachev at the Icelandic peace summit in 1987.